


Natural Brunette

by surrexi



Category: Doctor Who RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrexi/pseuds/surrexi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a wonder, her baby boy.  A perfect little miracle, in whom she could already see so much of herself and so much of his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Brunette

**Author's Note:**

> Written in August 2008 and posted to the billandteninch LJ community. Un-beta'd.

The nursery was dim when Billie tiptoed in and bent over the crib.  Thin pre-dawn light filtered in through the cracks between curtain and wall and drew lines on the carpet.  She knew that prevailing wisdom said you weren’t supposed to wake a sleeping baby, that you ought to get your sleep when you could, but she’d slipped out of bed anyway, leaving Laurence to his soft half-snores.

She reached into the crib and lifted her son into her arms.  He spluttered a little in his sleep at the interruption, and she pressed a soothing kiss into his messy hair.

“Shh,” she whispered.  “Mummy just wants to sit with you for a little while.”

She sat down in a rocking chair in the corner of the room and settled the baby in the crook of her arm.  He opened his eyes and blinked at her solemnly, and for a moment she thought she’d have to get up and go to the kitchen to retrieve his morning bottle.  But he simply yawned widely and closed his eyes again.

Billie reached over to a small bookcase next to the chair and switched off the baby monitor that sat on top of it.  No point in waking Laurence, she thought, nudging the floor with her toes and rocking slowly, singing softly under her breath.  She thought about choices and truths and consequences as she idly adjusted the blanket around the baby, ran her fingers gently over his tiny hands, his button nose.

He was a wonder, her baby boy.  A perfect little miracle, in whom she could already see so much of herself and so much of his father.  The old lullaby she’d been singing trailed off in the middle of a verse as she ruffled his hair.

Not for the first time since the baby was born, Billie felt a wave of guilty relief that she was not a natural blonde like her sleeping husband.

Her son had his father’s hair.


End file.
